Sickness, Pain, and Perseverance
by 1970heaven
Summary: A Speed Buggy fanfic. After an ice skating accident, Debbie catches pneumonia and Mark visits her at the hospital.


**This is a story I wanted to write showing just how close I think Debbie and Mark are.**

**I don't own Speed Buggy, but I do wish I had a car like him.**

...

_He could still remember the panic that had stabbed at him like a knife when he heard the ice break under her feet. His voice crying out her name as he and Tinker rushed over and reached into the frigid water, slowly pulling her out and setting her on solid ground. He remembered the relief that lifted weight off his shoulders when she coughed up water and was breathing again._

_Now she was home safe, but they wanted to stay the night with her and make sure she didn't get sick. While Tinker was peacefully snoring on the floor in his sleeping bag, and Speed Buggy was outside covered up by a blanket, Mark tossed and turned on the sofa unable to sleep._

_It wasn't where he was sleeping that bothered him. Rather, it was the fact that he had watched someone he cared about more than anything come so close to dying._

_Mark's thoughts were interrupted by a series of violent coughing coming from Debbie's bedroom. He immediately leapt from the couch and rushed in, seeing Debbie sitting in bed, coughing and hacking uncontrollably._

_"Debbie," he whispered, rushing to her side, patting and rubbing her back until she was breathing normally._

_Suddenly, she started shivering. She was wearing long pajamas and covered up by a bedsheets, bedcover, and five blankets._

_"S-s-s-so c-c-cold..." she wheezed, her teeth chattering loudly._

_Lifting up her golden brown bangs, Mark felt Debbie's forhead._

_"Yikes!" he cried, pulling his hand away. She was burning up._

_"What's all the commotion?" Murmured Tinker as he stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes._

_"Tink, get dressed and wake up Speedy! We've gotta get Debbie to the hospital, she's burning up!"_

_In no time, they were racing down the road in the cold, clear night. Tinker was in the driver's seat, and Mark was in the back with Debbie, trying to keep her warm._

_"(sputter sputter) Just hang in there Deb! (sputter) We'll get you there, no problem!" Speedy sputtered as he sped along the road to the hospital._

_"You're gonna be okay, Debbie." Mark whispered to her as she shivered in his arms, covered by a sweater, heavy coat, and five blankets. At this point, he wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure her, or himself._

_"M-Mark..." she mumbled, her jaw quivering. _

_"Shh, it's okay Deb, I'm here, I've got you. You're gonna be okay."_

_Even though it was a bad sign that she was shaking and coughing, it was the only way he could tell she was still alive. _

_..._

Mark shuddered at the memory, and at the cold January air that lingered in the afternoon.

It had been a week since the accident. That night when they took Debbie to the hospital, she was diagnosed with pneumonia. It had struck her so hard they were told she would have to stay at the hospital for a while.

Even though he knew she had a strong chance of pulling through, there was still a part of him that was scared.

And an even bigger part felt unwanted remorse.

Mark parked his motorbike and chained it to the bike rack. He looked up at the tall, white building before him.

The hospital.

He could still remember how frail and weak Debbie looked in that bed, so pale and miserable.

He almost hadn't recognized her.

Each day they would visit her, and each day they would remind her not to give up, she would get better.

He should have been used to walking down the hallway, the first thing he saw when he reached the room being a figure lying in a bed, sporting a teal hospital gown, an IV tube in her hand, her face pale and still. An oxygen tank and mask stood next to her bed in case she had trouble breathing. Next to the tank was a small stand, and on it sat a glass medicine bottle.

But every time, he would stop in the doorway, fighting back tears as he stared at the sick girl. He wasn't used to seening Debbie so weak. Maybe that was why it was hard for him not to feel terrible every time he saw her like that.

He approached the room and realized that she was curled up in a shaking ball, her legs drawn near her arms, which were folded up to her chin, where her hands were folded tightly together. The covers had been kicked off, so Mark gently pulled them back over her trembling body.

There was a moment of silence, then her eyelids fluttered a bit, revealing sky blue eyes that normally would have sparkled, but now were dulled by misery.

"Mark?" She breathed.

Mark sat down in the chair next to the bed, "Hey Deb," he replied in a whisper, gently brushing a few tangled locks of hair out of her face, "Feel better yet?" She still felt warm, but he knew she was still fighting it.

"Sometimes I do, and other times..." her voice trailed off and she began coughing and wheezing again.

Thinking fast, Mark grabbed the oxygen mask and helped her sit up as he put it over her face. "Breathe." he instructed, patting her back as she caught her breath.

Tears filled up in her eyes and she wiped them away, burying her face in her hands.

Mark leaned over and gently pulled her into a hug, stroking her messy hair and burying his face into the top of her head.

"When can I come home?" She mumbled under the mask, returning Mark's embrace.

"When you get better," He breathed into her hair.

"When will that be?"

"Someday soon, I hope, just hang in there and don't give up. Tinker, Speedy, and I are all here for you, okay?"

"Okay."

They didn't know how long they stayed that way, but the hug didn't break until they heard someone clearing their throat.

They both turned to see the young doctor holding a glass of water and a medicine cup.

"I'm sorry sir, you'll have to leave. Debbie needs to take her medicine now."

Mark nodded and turned to Debbie, "Don't stop fighting, okay Deb? I love you."

"I love you too Mark." Debbie replied as he kissed her forehead.

He grabbed his coat, waved goodbye once more, and left.

...

As Mark rode down the street, a thought came to his mind.

In five days it would be Groundhog Day, and if that groundhog wound up predicting six more weeks of winter, Mark predicted a dead groundhog.

The sooner they could get rid of the bitter coldness, the better it would be for everyone.


End file.
